Became The Premier League’S Youngest Manager [EN]: Chapter 2

2. The End and the Beginning

The flight from New York’s JFK Airport to Manchester Airport was seven hours long.

As soon as the gate connected, Helena rushed out as if she was being chased and jumped into the club car that was waiting for her.

The journey from Manchester Airport to Barnfield Training Centre, where Burnley Football Club’s training ground and club offices were located, usually took more than an hour, but she urged the driver to cover the distance in just 30 minutes.

Helena anxiously watched the passing English countryside, skipping the luxury of unpacking her luggage at the hotel, and finally arrived at Barnfield, heading straight into the club offices.

The last time she had closed her eyes and slept was early yesterday morning in her time, but the sudden resignation of the manager and staff had thrown the club offices into chaos. She strode energetically through the middle of it all, fueled by tension and caffeine, and burst open the door marked ‘Mike Garlic’.

“What on earth is going on?!”

“Who are you?!”

The two middle-aged men sitting across the conference table, engaged in a conversation with dark expressions, looked at her with bewildered faces.

Helena pulled out a chair from the table, straddled it, and spoke to the man who had indicated that her data might be helpful.

“I’m Helena Cartwright. The newly dispatched director.”

“Ah, so you’re from Cartwright Fund? I am…”

“Yes, you’re Mike Garlic. The former chairman. But that’s not the point. What on earth has happened? Why did the manager suddenly resign?”

The expressions on the faces of the two middle-aged British men, who were staring at the young American woman who had suddenly barged into the office and started asking questions, began to sour.

Seeing their unpleasant expressions, several options flashed through Helena’s mind.

Suppressing the ‘scold them’ option that her emotions had prioritized, Helena chose ‘apologize,’ as suggested by the cold reason she had inherited from her father and the experience she had accumulated over the past decade.

“I’m sorry. The last time I slept was 36 hours ago, and I just flew straight here from New York, which took about 10 hours. I guess I wasn’t making much sense.”

Helena sat back in her chair and looked at the two men.

“Let me introduce myself again. I’m Helena Cartwright, the new director of Burnley Football Club dispatched from Cartwright Fund. What’s the situation, and how can I help?”

Her polite apology and greeting seemed to ease their mood a little, and Mike Garlic and John Banaszkiewicz, who had been talking to him, began to explain the situation to her.

With all the personnel dispatched from ALK Capital now gone, Mike Garlic, who had maintained his position as a director in name only after selling his beloved hometown club to ALK Capital eight months ago, and his long-time friend and Burnley director, John Banaszkiewicz, were the only two executives remaining at the club.

Thus, an absurd situation began to unfold, where former chairman Mike Garlic and new chairman’s proxy Helena Cartwright had to resolve the current crisis facing Burnley Football Club, with the addition of John Banaszkiewicz, the only remaining current director, as a sidekick.

“…So, there’s no way to persuade the manager to come back?”

“Sean had already said he would resign when I first sold the club. ALK Capital managed to hold onto him by promising new investment and full support. Now that ALK Capital has suddenly withdrawn and a new American owner has appeared, it’s impossible to persuade Sean again.”

Mike Garlic added a disclaimer that he didn’t have any particular prejudice against Americans.

John Banaszkiewicz, who had been listening to the explanation, continued.

“Sean feels that trust has been broken, and that kind of trust is really important to him. He’s probably quite disappointed in Mike and me too, although he didn’t express it directly.”

Helena felt a constant stream of sighs escaping her lips as she clutched her head.

She had already emptied her fourth cup of coffee since arriving at the office, but Helena resisted the urge to reach for the coffee pot on one side of the office, trying to follow the conversation of the two directors, which was full of jargon.

“…The problem is that the opening game is next week, and we don’t have a manager, we don’t have a head coach, in fact, we don’t have any coaches at all. They all left with Sean.”

“Oh, what about the junior varsity… I mean, the junior team manager?”

Helena interjected, trying to recall the data she had crammed into her head on the plane, in response to John Banaszkiewicz’s lament. The two men flinched for a moment and then sighed simultaneously.

“Here, we call the junior team the under-23s team as the reserve team, and the under-19s team as the youth team. Of course, the under-19s are also subdivided by age, but Burnley doesn’t have as many subdivisions in the youth team as a big club. For your information, we call the main team the first team.”

Mike Garlic continued John Banaszkiewicz’s explanation, who had suddenly become Helena’s cram school teacher for the subject of football.

“But the reserve team manager also quit with Sean.”

“Then what about the under-19s, the youth team?”

Mike Garlic and John Banaszkiewicz exchanged glances.

As Helena watched the two men, John Banaszkiewicz shook his head and said.

“That guy has only been in the job for less than a month. And he has no experience as a first team or reserve team manager. I can’t even remember what grade his UEFA license is.”

“He has a UEFA Pro License. I remember Sean mentioning it.”

Mike Garlic, who had been pondering with him, mentioned.

“Anyway, he’s the only option we have right now, isn’t he? Or can we find a new manager within a week?”

“We can find one, but…”

“…But?”

“…I’m not sure if we can find the manager we want.”

Mike Garlic said in a half-resigned tone. Helena said to him.

“Then shouldn’t we meet that person and talk to him?”

“…It might be better than doing nothing.”

The man who entered the conference room, where all three of the club’s current board members were gathered, was about 180 centimeters tall [approximately 5’11”], but he was a slender young Asian man with a gentle expression.

Even for Helena, who had attended public schools in New York since she was a child according to her family’s educational policy and had friends of various races from all walks of life, it was difficult to accurately judge his age.

However, it was hard to find the confident or assertive demeanor that she usually expected from a sports manager.

The black-haired man, who bowed silently and then sat down to face the directors, politely placed his hands on his knees and looked at the three of them.

Thinking that he looked like a cow being dragged to the slaughterhouse, Helena rechecked the documents in front of her (this primitive club still managed documents on paper!).

“Uh, Hyeongmin Kim?”

The man sighed quietly and replied in English with a clear accent but not difficult to understand.

“Just call me Kim. I wouldn’t even expect you to say Hyeongmin.”

“Then Mr. Kim?”

“Kim. Mr. Kim.”

‘Is it a G sound instead of a K sound?’ Helena thought to herself, and then continued.

“Mr… Kim. Are you aware that you are the only manager left at the club right now?”

“Well, yes, but there are quite a few coaches left in the youth team, aren’t there?”

“But that…”

Helena quickly checked the data.

“UEFA? – Mike, what is UEFA? – Anyway, this UEFA Pro License? They said you’re the only one who has it?”

Kim tilted his head to the side and then nodded up and down in response.

“That’s good. Then can you lead the team in the opening game?”

“Are you talking about the Division 2 opening game?”

As another unfamiliar word appeared, Helena finally gave up on the conversation and turned to the other two, who were sitting next to her, looking blank, for help.

Fortunately, John Banaszkiewicz received her unspoken request and answered instead.

“I’m not talking about the reserve team, I’m talking about the first team opening game.”

“Oh… are you calling me in to fire me right now?”

“Fire? No, why would we fire you? It’s not that, we’re asking you to lead the team as interim manager in the Premier League opening game next week.”

Kim, who had been sitting blankly for a long time as if trying to understand the question, finally replied in an agitated voice as if he was dumbfounded.

“You’re asking me to lead Burnley in the Premier League? Me, a rookie? Do you guys even have any common sense?”

“No, we’re not asking you to take charge of the entire season…”

John Banaszkiewicz, who had suddenly become an insensible person, started desperately pleading while sweating profusely.

Helena, who had left the conversation coming from the side for a while, turned her head to look at the gloomy sky outside the window, and once again resented the unscrupulous boss (and father) who had thrown her into the middle of this situation.

***

Hyeongmin, who was walking down the club office hallway, which was usually noisy but had become noticeably quieter after the manager and his staff had left all at once, opened a small door that appeared at the end of it.

Originally, the under-19s team manager only had a desk in a shared office with other staff, but Sean Dyche, the manager who had brought him to Burnley, had stubbornly insisted on a place that was a converted small warehouse.

Just a small desk, a chair, and a folding chair set up next to the filing cabinet.

However, for Hyeongmin, it was the only place he considered his own space at Burnley Football Club, which had become his home just a month ago.

“What did they say? Are they kicking you out?”

In the midst of a small window close to the ceiling that was shining the remaining summer sunlight onto the desk, a white-haired man with a grumpy expression, who was sitting in a chair in front of the small desk that took up half of the narrow room, asked as soon as he saw him.

Hyeongmin shook his head at the man who had occupied his desk and unfolded the folding chair to sit opposite the man.

“No, Arthur.”

“I thought they were calling you in to cut you off, of course. Well, if they cut you off, they’d have to pay a penalty, so they can’t do that either? Anyway, why did they call you in? The board members must be completely out of their minds right now, right?”

Arthur Brimlow was a living legend of the club’s youth development program, having dedicated his entire 60-year life to Burnley Football Club.

Born and raised in Burnley, he went through the youth teams for each age group, but his playing career ended due to a severe injury as soon as he debuted in the first team. After that, he served as a coach and manager for each age group youth team in Burnley, and as a reserve team manager, and finally served as the head of the club’s youth development program.

The elderly coach, who was about to retire, had planned to finish the handover to Hyeongmin, the newly appointed youth team manager, at the earnest request of manager Sean Dyche, and then enjoy a sweet retirement life with his wife.

Of course, no one asked for Clarissa Brimlow’s opinion, who would now have to spend an excessive amount of time with her suddenly retired husband.

Hyeongmin replied to the stubborn old man, who was sending him a look urging him to answer, to the greenhorn.

“They’re telling me to lead the first team opening game? As interim manager?”

“…Are those guys crazy?!”

Hyeongmin agreed with Arthur’s explosive cry, but he felt a little hurt.

“No, that’s true, but you don’t have to go that far…”

“They should kneel in front of Sean’s house and beg him, there’s no need to entrust it to a greenhorn like this! Oh, I’m not even asking for Joachim Löw [former manager of the German national team], but they can call Roy Hodgson [former manager of the English national team] at least! Neil Warnock is unemployed right now too. We are Burnley Football Club! We can’t tarnish the honor of the Clarets [Burnley’s nickname] who fight to the end like this!”

The former manager of the German national team, who won the World Cup.

The former manager of Crystal Palace, who had led clubs in the top leagues for decades, including the English national team.

And even the veteran who has achieved the most promotions in the history of English professional football.

As all sorts of big-name managers in the European football world who are currently unemployed were being summoned one after another, Arthur, who noticed Hyeongmin’s rapidly darkening expression, stopped speaking with a startled expression.

“Oh, uh, no… I mean…”

“It’s okay, Arthur. I understand too.”

“Ahem. So, you certainly have talent, but being a Premier League manager is…”

“No, you don’t have to say it.”

“No! Who knows? You might have talent like Julian Nagelsmann [a young, highly-rated German football manager]!”

The genius of the same age who debuted as the first team manager in the German Bundesliga at the age of only 28.

At the age of 34, Hyeongmin buried his face on the desk in deeper frustration when the genius of the same age, who was appointed as the manager of Bayern Munich, the strongest team in the Bundesliga, with a record transfer fee of 25 million euros, was summoned.

“Oh, no… I mean…!”